Work Text:
Devilwitch
Author’s Note: Enjoy the story and R&R.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of the Shinkalion franchise.
Pairing: Established Ginga x Nagara.
Summary:
Halloween with Team Shinkalion.
“Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat!” Nagara sang the tune from Ginga’s foreign jingle mixtape (the tape Ginga played to train up his English enunciation).
Ginga pulled Nagara’s fake tail. He didn’t need the tail ending in the ace of clubs, or the fake horns. The nicely dressed Pipsqueak of Darkness really was a devil, making him sneak into the hangar with him Halloween night, while Doctor Yellow was hooked up for maintenance!
Nagara’s Big Bro would react strongly to him getting up to stuff in the legendary Shinkalion’s vicinity. Ryuji-san didn’t pass Doctor Yellow on to Shimakaze – personally asking him to be the new driver – for his other pupil to use its pilot compartment as a make-out compartment!
“I’m not smellin’ yer feet! But I will give youse somethin’ good t’ eat!”
Ginga was attired as a witch, so as the old stories warned, shady offerings of food were a given.
One way or another, Nagara was a happy little devil. Poison never tasted as good unless kissed off of Ginga’s lips. And he revelled the thought of Ginga luring him with sweets to gobble him up.
With his thumbs, Ginga snapped Nagara’s suspender straps over the costumed devil’s back.
“Ow! Don’t pretend I’m letting you off easy for that, Arashiyama!”
Wot’s happenin’ right now?
“Gin-ga!” Nagara tightened the pumpkin bow on Ginga’s witch hat, as if tying it tighter would choke the not especially pointy point into an even bendier state.
An eye of newt for an eye of newt.
“Apologize to me!”
“I ain’t apologizin’!” Ginga laughed, Nagara’s star-shaped temporary tattoo soon smooshed into his cheek. “SOS! SOS! I’m under attack!”
The star could’ve originated from Ginga’s mouth. Fittingly, his starry declarations often featured a star where the period went, whether in his speech, messaging, or lyrics.
Neither could tell his knuckles from his foot. Neither could be sure whose knuckles and whose feet were whose, the amount of shoving and kicking they were doing.
At least Nagara’s headband with the curved red horns wasn’t stabbing Ginga in the face!
They fought over a sweet potato rice cracker. The company which made them made them to resemble spiders. Legs close enough to a bug’s, the finger snack would have Taiju throwing Hanabi at them so he’d have enough time to get the hell away.
For Frankenstein’s monster, Taiju could bolt out of danger shockingly fast.
“Taiju, you maniac!” Hanabi in his werewolf ears and tail would howl.
Hanabi was an acceptable sacrifice. Right? He was loud and could be counted on to last the few extra moments Taiju counted on to sortie.
Shin, the captain of the pirate ship, set sail with a fascination for all strange creatures in his chest.
The vampire Abuto based his noble mien on fed on the life force of the living, therefore a rice cracker imitating a miniscule critter scampering around is hardly anything to fear.
Insects are a normal sight for a shinigami, whose cloak and scythe Yamakasa wore and handled.
Nagara hadn’t divulged to Ginga that Shimakaze dressed up as a jiangshi.
Yes, bugs were legitimately only a problem for Taiju. And a bad guitar riff for the aforementioned Hanabi, destined to be his projectile.
“This doesn’t rock!”
The snigger the image brought to Nagara of Frankenstein’s monster hurling a harried pooch at a harmless biscuit allowed Ginga to prise the Japanese Halloween candy from Nagara’s teeth.
…
“Shimakaze, Happy Halloween!” Shin swung his cutlass.
“Happy Halloween, Shin.”
“You finished the diagnostic check?”
“Diagnostic check? I’m not testing with the service crew today.”
“You aren’t? Hosokawa-san seemed to think you were in Doctor Yellow when I talked to him in the maintenance yard earlier.”
“Hosokawa-san’s here? At the Nagoya Branch?”
“He is! There are parts Abuto shipped in from Omiya he wanted installed!”
“I see…I had no idea. Thanks, Shin. I’ll find Hosokawa-san and ask.”
“Better hop to it! I hear Akeno-san came with Abuto to say sorry to Hosokawa-san for using him to infiltrate the base!”
…
Shimakaze appeared on Doctor Yellow’s HUD. A witch and a devil had illegally boarded his Shinkalion, and they weren’t there to repair the robot’s Tongue Rail Sword!
“Nagara.”
“Aniki! What up?”
“Why are you and Ginga in Doctor Yellow?”
“What does it look like?”
“If Ryuji-san finds out, we’ll both be in deep trouble.”
“No sweat! I asked Ryuji-san for permission first!”
“You did?”
“No!” Nagara snorted. “I have some self-preservation!”
“Then get down. Before Ryuji-san notices.”
“Notices what?”
“You two.”
“You two what?”
“The two of you up there.”
“The two of you up there doing what?”
“…”
The devil and his boyfriend grinned at each other, Nagara’s giggles less elegant than Ginga’s. They were eating up Shimakaze dodging the subject.
“Making out, Aniki! We were making out!”
“Just get down.”
“And if I don’t?”
That’s what he got for being the oldest. Not only was he the eldest child of the Anjos, he was the oldest among the second-generation Team Shinkalion members, beating Yamakasa by three months, twenty-four days.
“An’ if we don’t?” Ginga rephrased.
Shimakaze released a weary breath. Nagara, he understood. But Ginga too? His brother was a negative influence.
Could someone younger be a negative influence on someone older?
“You can do whatever you like. I won’t be involved.”
“Oho! Aniki’s itchin’ to fight!” Nagara left Shimakaze’s Shinkalion and nimbly scaled his way down, jumping over the railing.
Shimakaze didn’t engage.
Nagara spun his tail, put his best foot forward, and channelled all his weight into both feet front and back. He squeezed his fists, daring Shimakaze to make the first strike.
This is how Nagara always tried to force Shimakaze to resolve their conflicts.
“I won’t compete.”
And not competing is how Shimakaze always responded, since their karate styles had different goals.
“Meh. Lame.”
“Umm…Dun mean t’ be th’ guy, but…” Ginga finally caught up to them.
“What is it, Ginga?”
“Ryuji-san alert!” he whisper-shouted.
Kiyosu Ryuji wasn’t wearing a costume. He was wearing his usual severe expression.
“Nagara, what were you doing in Doctor Yellow?”
“Who?”
“You and Ginga.”
“Me and Ginga what?”